Fatal Formula
by AllMonstersRHuman
Summary: Happily ever afters don't last forever, especially for Mac and Krystal. Dangerous Recipe 2: Fatal Formula.
1. Lost Innocence

A little boy sits in the back of a rusted Cadillac. His skittish blue eyes dart from the rocky landscape whizzing by outside his window to the blond woman driving with a cigarette clutched in her hand. Worry creases his brow as he squirms in his seat, pain pricking his bladder.

"Mom I still gotta go potty." he squeaks out, just barely loud enough to be heard over the drawling lyrics of a country heartbreak song.

"If you make one more sound I swear to god I'll dump you on the side of the road right here for the buzzards to eat." the driver snaps, maneuvering her rear view mirror to catch the golden haired child in her resentful sights. "We'll be there in half an hour, just hold it."

The boy does his best to stay quiet, wiggling this way and that, desperately trying to relieve his discomfort while pleasing the temperamental female in front of him. He watches the little clock on the dashboard, the pain becoming unbearable by the time fifteen minutes pass.

He tries to keep his tears of shame silent as steaming urine pools on the leather seat beneath him and runs down his legs. A small sob at disappointing his mother slips out making her arctic eyes flit to the mirror.

When her eyes lock with his fear strikes through him and he cries harder. They return back to the road when she only sees his blubbering face. Making him confused as to why the yelling and pain hasn't started yet. More anxiety riddled minutes tick by before the scent of pee reaches her nostrils.

"Did you piss your pants Mackenzie?" she screeches, turning around quickly to look at the sobbing soaked child scornfully, making him flinch and bury his face shamefully in his hands.

If she could have safely reached back there to smack him without the car veering off the road she would have. The thought of pulling over just to beat him was almost as appealing as the end result of this road trip.

"You worthless little fuck, I can't wait to-" she cuts herself off, knowing she almost let slip what would set off a full on hysterical tantrum, instead pushing the gas pedal down harder.

She turns the music up louder to drown out her son's cries and apologies, getting giddier with every passing mile marker. When they finally pull to a stop she doesn't waste a second before getting out to haul a faded backpack from the trunk, wrenching the rear car door open.

"You go on in there and give this to the man behind the counter. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?" she asks sweetly in a sickeningly fake manner, holding out an envelope with a name on it.

Eager to please his mother after soiling himself the little boy nods, taking the white rectangle in his tiny hands. Grateful for a chance to make it up to his mom he moves forward with outstretched arms. Only to be rejected as she steps back with a look of disgust on her face.

"Go on, you'll get a hug after." she lies, wrinkling her nose at him.

She watches him run to the bar, excited to complete this mission in exchange for his mother's love. His mother only waits until he's barely inside the door before tossing the backpack into the dirt and climbing back into the drivers seat.

The boy waits patently as a man with a ponytail reads his mother's note. Horror and anger flash over the strange man's face before he charges out the entrance, yanking the little boy along roughly by the arm.

The pain shooting through his small limb is forgotten when he realizes the taillights vanishing into a cloud of dust belong to the person who was supposed to love him most in the world. He doesn't understand. He was a good boy, he did what she asked. Why was she forgetting him?

"Momma wait for me!" Mackenzie screams, frantically trying to get away from the man to run after her, watching the car disappear into the distance. Watching her leave him behind.

When the man's grip loosens the boy falls to the ground, crawling to the pack as he cries, clutching it for dear life as snot and salty water pour down his face. He calls out for his mother in between keening wails, desperate to not be ignored for once.

"Look at you, no wonder she ditched your sorry ass." the man sneered down at the distraught child, making him cry harder.

"No son of mine would piss his pants and cry for his mama, that slut don't know shit." he growled to himself, returning to his work, leaving the boy to snivel in the dirt.

Eventually Mackenzie's cries died into sniffling tremors that wracked his small frame. Self soothing hopes of his mommy turning the car around when she realized he wasn't in the back seat quieting him.

After almost getting run over he moved to sit on top of a picnic table so he could be easily seen when she remembered him and came back. He sat there stone still, trying his best to be a good boy. She was always telling him to sit still and be quiet. He wanted her to be proud of how good he was being when she returned.

When his back began to ache and he was forced to reposition himself he felt like a failure, sure his mother would know he moved. She always knew. Even if he really hadn't done anything she was always right. And he was always punished.

As he sat there he wondered if he would be punished for not coming back outside quick enough. He already knew he would be for his accident. The penalty for such a crime was a forceful scrubbing in the bathtub with the metal wool along with being held under the water until he fell asleep.

Even when it got dark out with the bar's porch lights illuminating a parking lot packed full of cars. He still confidently told every person who asked him where his parents were that his mom would be back soon. Truly believing she would be. His young mind came up with countless reasons why she was taking so long. Each one strengthening his naive faith in her return. Even though he was miserably hungry and chilled to the bone from sitting in wet pants all day.

As it got later he fought to keep his eyes open and watch as many people left, until only one truck remained in the lot. The sound of keys jingling and a door shutting came from behind him before gravel crunching footsteps approached him from behind.

"Still out here waiting on that whore piss boy?" a gruff voice asked him, making his tiny fists ball up.

He hated his man, the one she left him with. His shaking was no longer from chills but unhealthy intense rage. Anger that'd been held inside from years of being neglected and abused.

Springing off the tabletop he attacked the man, scratching and punching with all the violence his little fury could muster. Until a hard slap to the face made his nose bleed and the tears start up again, pissing off the man in front of him further.

"Shut it you little pussy." he roared dragging the wailing child towards a strip of motel rooms, locking the door behind him once he forced the boy inside.

"No son a mine is going to be soft. I'm gonna pound the pussy right outta you pretty-boy." Walter growled, unbuckling his belt as he advanced on Mac's cowering form in the corner.

* * *

He was screaming again, crying in his sleep.

She hated nights like these when she had to listen to him whimper in agony as the demons of his subconscious tortured him. While she was powerless to stop it.

When hot liquid seeped underneath her from his side of the bed she knew she couldn't just sit by idly anymore. Braving another injury she shook him lightly, not moving fast enough when a blind fist swung out at her.

"Son of a bitch." she hissed, clutching the boob he sideswiped, the female pain equivalent of a nut punch shooting through her chest.

"Mac wake up!" she bellowed once the pain passed and she could breathe again, rattling him roughly until his eyes opened.

He gave a startled whine before frantically searching, his breaths coming in labored pants until his eyes finally found her. Mac grabbed for her, yanking her down underneath him, clinging to her.

"I'm here." she assured, ignoring the warm wetness saturating her skin as his weight pressed her down into the piss soaked mattress. Instead she brought a gentle hand up to stroke his hair and push the strands off his sweaty face.

"I'll always be here." she promised with a wheeze when his crushing grip refused to loosen, his embrace becoming painful, bordering on cracking her ribs.

Her other arm wrapped around him to squeeze reassuringly before her palm ran down his back in a soothing gesture, sweeping over raised scar tissue.

"It's okay, It was just a nightmare." she whispered when he finally gave her leeway to breathe, though he continued trembling.

He couldn't even remember how he coped with the night terrors before she came along, any drug paling in comparison to the relief her touch and presence afforded him. Letting out a long calming breath he burrowed his face deeper into her neck, settling into the comforting feel of her body underneath him.

Mac stiffened noticeably when a distinct scent wafted up to him from his place on top of her. The physical embodiment of his nightmare memory coated them both. He recoiled from her embrace, shame slicing through him even deeper now that he was an adult.

"You fucking elbowed me in the bladder in your sleep and I peed the bed." Kristy lied, trying to take the blame for his accident, attempting to spare him the embarrassment.

Looking away from her in self-loathing he only grunted in reply before getting off her to head towards the shower. Mac didn't need Devon to say it for him to know she was too good for him.

Once he was out of the room she let the choking gag slip out she'd been repressing for his sake, scurrying to get off the bed. If someone had told her four months ago that she'd be voluntarily rolling around in piss to prevent Mac's feelings from being hurt she would have laughed in their face.

"Good lord, what is he, a fucking camel?" she muttered to herself once the top sheet was pulled away to reveal an unreasonably large piddle puddle.

With a quick glance at the bedside clock she dialed Walter to leave a message calling off for the coming day, grateful he wouldn't be up at this hour to bitch her out.

* * *

The difference between her reaction and his mother's didn't go unacknowledged as Mac stood under the spray. Krystal always knew what to do to make him feel better, be it him getting fired again or screaming like a little bitch in the middle of the night. She always made it better by just being there. Let alone everything else she did to soothe him.

"Thanks for keeping it warm while I cleaned everything up." came an exhausted voice from behind him as the glass door opened.

"I called off for today." she added around a yawn, moving in front of him to steal the hot water and rinse his dried urine from her skin.

"Aint Walter gonna be pissed?" he commented, thankful she'd changed the topic so quickly.

"Fuck Walter, he can serve his own damn food just like he used to before we had to shut down." she grumbled, grabbing for the soap.

The way she so brazenly did as she pleased without fearing his father made Mac wish he had such courage, such strength. Leaning his face into her hair he wrapped an arm around her, foolishly half hoping some of it would seep in through his skin.

"You want to talk about it?" she quietly asked, leaning back into him. Obviously that one was a big fat "no".

"You wanna fuck?" she offered when her first question was greeted with stony silence.

Kristy knew taking his emotions out on her with violent sex almost always did the trick. A shift of his hips against her backside told her all she needed to know.

"M' gonna call off too, spend tha day fuckin' yer brains out." Mac declared, kicking her legs apart, more than happy to do so instead of spending it covered in grease.

"Uh-uh you already called off twice this week." she chided, gasping when he roughly inserted himself.

The force of it would have knocked her over if not for the large hands encasing her hips, thick fingers digging into her soft flesh. Bruising. Marking.

"Richie aint gonna fire me, lil shit wouldn' dare." he growled, bending her over forcefully until she could touch her toes.

"No Mac, you're going to work." she ground out breathlessly, his erratic harsh movements silencing her there after. Apart from animalistic noises.

* * *

"I call that the moon patch." Kristy informed him when he swept light fingertips over a group of circular craters in her upper bicep. "She'd call for me and if I didn't come running fast enough with an ashtray she'd use me instead. Sometimes she'd just use me for the fun of it."

Of course he'd gotten his way with little resistance. And now there they were, snuggled up in the living room on an air mattress nest consisting of every clean blanket and pillow they owned. She couldn't say no when she'd woken him for breakfast and he gave her _that _look.

He'd poked his head from beneath the covers, bed-head sticking up in all directions, bottom lip sticking out, big blue eyes turning her to mush. Mac had mastered the puppy dog face quite quickly when he'd realized it actually worked on her. But she always spoiled him whether he was being a manipulative little shit or not.

Mac was thoroughly enjoying their twisted game instead of being at work, sickly fascinated with the stories that accompanied her damage. At the same time he wished the people who'd given them to her were still alive so he could kill them again.

"Hey, it's my turn!" she whined when Mac tried to choose another mark.

"Got that fallin' offa cliff, tryina rape Devon's college girlfriend back when alla that shit went down." he shared when her fingers ran along a raised line underneath his hair.

"Crazy bitch tackled me right offa tha damn side." he added as his eyes swept along her exposed body, choosing his next one.

"Those are actually all my fault." she laughed as he grabbed onto her burn covered toes. "I was experimenting with the formula, only wearing flipflops."

"What about this. I know it's not a scar but I still want to know. Devon has one too, I've seen it." she insisted, tapping at the armature spider tattoo located where his collar bone ended and his shoulder began.

"Never mind." she quickly backpedaled when the slight grin on his face vanished at her question, his eyes clouding over, hardening.

Kristy cherished every one of his decaying smiles, something rare that only happened when they were alone and he wasn't in one of his gloomy moods. She didn't want to be the cause of it's disappearance.

"How 'bout them, never could figure 'em out." he admitted, moving on past the memory the spider brought back. Tracing lines between the small raised welts peppering the skin on her side just above her hip he looked up at her expectantly.

"Cattle prod." she supplied before taking a sip of water, knowing he'd want the whole story. "They hung me from my bound hands so my toes could just barely touch the floor. Doused me with ice water and then every time I wouldn't answer I'd get a jolt with the prod. It wasn't so bad. That was just about the only time I got any heat unless they were burning me."

Her fingers tapped lightly at healed meth scab scars along his chest before she settled on a thin faded line over his heart, placing her palm over it. He looked up at her, his features darkening again. Kristy couldn't understand why he'd made up this stupid game if it was going to upset him so much. She was more than willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know if he just got the balls to ask.

"Sh' tried killin' me when I was a baby. Stabbed me an left me in a dumpster. Changed 'er mind an came back when she got high again. Fuckin' whore bragged 'bout it when I was a lil older, told me I shouldn'a survived." he whispered just when she was about to relinquish her turn.

"Thas why she called me 'er lil cockroach. Cuz I wouldn' die." he added with a dark sarcastic laugh.

Krystal's hand had balled into a fist over his heart during his short story. She was practically shaking from containing her rage, her face turning red from held in breath and anger. Exactly why Mac had dodged every scar given to him by his parents whenever she unknowingly chose one so far.

He pulled her down to rest on his chest, relieved when she finally let out a long breath and started breathing again, his heartbeat keeping her meltdown at bay. And here she thought he was the one who couldn't handle it.

"Damn good thang we didn' make this inta a drinkin' game." he commented, getting a slight chuckle from her.

After a few moments Mac pushed her off, shifting onto his side so he could grab for her hands, choosing his next set of faded scars. The lines extending the width of her hands were so faint you could only see them if the light hit them just right, her shins sported matching near invisible stripes.

"How'd ya get them." he inquired, running his thumbs over her palms, moving to rest his head on her stomach.

"I was never really scared of her and she knew it. I wasn't afraid to tell her what a whore she was or hit her back and it pissed her off to no end. One day I just snapped and knocked her over the back with a kitchen chair." she began, stroking a hand through his hair while she tried to remember the exact details.

"No wait, it was a baseball bat I'd stolen from a neighborhood kid. Either way, that night when I was sleeping she picked me up and tossed me in the oven. She turned it on and held the door closed, started cooking me until she couldn't stand the smell anymore."

"I faded them on purpose, those were always the ones I hated the most because she actually put some fear in me that night." she explained when Mac brought her hands closer to examine the lines.

"Wish that bitch was alive so's I could barbeque 'er ass alive." Mac growled, showing the first sign that any of her trauma effected him beyond his sick fascination.

"Don't worry, I got her back the next night. It hurt like hell to strike the match but I lit her hair on fire while she was sleeping." she snickered, making a wide smile stretch his face along with a barking laugh.

When she went to reach for the ones on his back he rolled over, silently telling her those were off limits. That was a loophole in the game. If they chose a scar the other wasn't willing to talk about then the chooser lost that turn. Mac never lost a turn.

"This one." he demanded, opening her legs before thumbing the teeth marks on her inner thigh.

"Oh that's a special one." she purred with a naughty smile, knowing where that scar would lead as he settled himself in between her thighs.

"I got that one the night my man made me his."


	2. Talking Business

Walter tried dialing Krystal's number once more, getting a series of rings over the din of the bar before her voicemail answered again.

"Fucking puta whore." he growled, slamming the phone down into it's cradle.

He was growing extremely sick of the girl acting like she was the one in charge. Not showing up to work whenever she felt like it. Giving him excuses every time he tried to insist it was time to start cooking again. Walter was almost out of the product they'd stockpiled in an underground bunker miles away and the main customers were getting hostile at him rationing it.

When Cainville had been crawling with agents and cops just like she'd predicted they'd had to completely shut down the business. Burying her lab set along with every brick they had before bleaching every inch of the cave and setting it aflame for good measure.

The junkies had moved out of town without their weekly fixes coming. Leaving room for developers to buy up land and turn Cainville into a resort town. Now it was thriving, crawling with tourists. Which was why the Luna Mesa had a full house this evening, why he needed his only waitress on duty.

"Devon go up to her house and get that bitch down here." Walter ordered, popping the caps off several beers before putting them on a tray for a table in the corner.

"Dad if she called in you know she's not going to come. She won't listen to me." Devon argued, not keen on being the one to tell Krystal she _had _to do anything.

"I don't care if you have to drag her by her fucking hair! Get that whore down here." he growled quietly, balancing the tray evenly before making his way to the customers.

* * *

"Goddamn thas good." Mac wheezed around a held in breath of smoke, examining the rolled greenery in between his fingers.

"Where'd ya get this shit?" he asked once he was done coughing his brains out, passing Kristy the joint.

"One of those construction guys gets it from a dispensary in California. I jewed him way down on the price for a half so you're set for a while." she informed him, taking her first hit.

With canine noses sniffing around and professional snoops skulking about, Kristy had no choice but to force Mac into detox. She'd taken care of him through every agonizing hour of it, the vomiting, violent hallucinations, the shakes. Basically withdralls from hell. There still wasn't a day he didn't at least once think about snorting a sweet line of meth. But they'd found marijuana curbed his cravings nicely, mellowing him out slightly as well.

Kristy gave a hefty eye roll at his sour expression in reaction to her interacting with another male without him present. It wasn't like she'd ever cheat on him. She knew he was just irrationally insecure thanks to previous fucked up events in his life. Trust issues on steroids.

"You're so cute when you're possessive." she giggled after letting out a long stream of smoke, rolling her hips atop him, making his cock twitch inside her.

"Nobody'll ever fuck me like you do." she whispered, placing the red hot end into her mouth before leaning in to almost press her mouth against his, blowing a thick milky stream of smoke into his lungs until he began to choke.

"Nobody'll ever hit it right like you do." she murmured, using the back of the couch as leverage to rise up on his dick before slowly grinding back down onto it.

"I'm your bitch. You own me." she purred, continuing to stroke his ego and tease him with every undulation of her hips as she snuffed the roach out in a nearby ashtray.

"Bounce." he ordered smugly, smacking her ass hard enough to make her gasp before a wicked grin spread across her face.

She obeyed, twerking her ass as she rose and fell on his length, sending Mac's head flying to the back of the couch, his mouth hanging open as he groaned in pleasure. He filled his hands with generous portions of her cheeks, slamming her down onto his dick when she hovered teasingly over it, making her scream.

"Cummon, pleeeaase lemmie put it in yer ass." he begged, wiggling a finger against her resistant puckered hole, making that adorable face up at her.

"Fuck no." she growled, smacking his hand away, giving him a serious glare as her motions slowed.

Kristy was genuinely surprised not only at his use of manners, but that he was still on about that. After what she'd done to him for "accidentally" drunkenly trying to poke her back door while she was sleeping one night she thought he'd never dare ask for that again. No longer having patents for their mediocre pace after being shot down Mac began pounding up into her, making her hiss in pained pleasure as she leaned back, gripping his hair for balance.

"Oh shit, Devon!" she squealed, dropping her exposed body down onto Mac when she spotted his brother through the glass panel of the kitchen's back door.

"Wut tha fuck did yew jus call me?" Mac screamed furiously, yanking her head up with a painfully hard grip on her hair.

"He's at the back door." she growled at him, digging her nails into the wrist of the hand trying to rip her hair out.

Mac twisted around at the sound of persistent knocking, peeking over the edge of the sofa to find his little brother peering in through the glass.

"Fuck off!" he hollered, trying to keep Kristy from slithering off his lap and down onto the air mattress.

"Walter probably sent him." she assumed, snatching a sheet from their blanket cave, weaving it around herself before rising into view and stomping to the door.

"This better be really important, there better be some shit on fire or someone dying." she snapped once she unlocked and opened the door.

"W-wal-" Devon stuttered before she cut him off.

"Walter wants me serving his fucking slop, right? Spit it out already you sound like a fucking retard." Kristy snarled, making Devon step back a few paces.

"Tell him I'll be there in an hour. Get out of my sight." she hissed, slamming the door in his face.

With a sigh she leaned back against the door, resting her head against in for a moment before moving to get ready. She was doing it for Mac, not because Walter sent his errand boy up commanding her to. Every time she pissed him off he took it out on Mac, knowing his son was her only weakness. His only way to control her.

* * *

"I need to talk to you." Walter informed Kristy when she returned with a tray full of empties.

"Uh-uh I don't have time to talk. I'm too busy taking orders, serving drinks, and refraining from murdering your customers when they try grabbing my ass." she growled, dumping the empties in the recycling bin. "And on top of that I'm bussing tables. What the fuck Walter you told me you'd hire a busboy."

"Devon get off your ass and start clearing tables." Walter ordered, raising his eyebrows at Kristy, motioning with a sweep of his hand towards his office.

"You already know what I want." he quietly told her when he closed the door behind them.

"And you already know what I'm going to say." she calmly countered, crossing her arms to lean back against Devon's desk.

"You work for me remember? I let you and Mac live on that condition. Which means you obey my orders or you both die." he hissed, dropping all diplomatic pretenses, quickly growing irritated that she was still resisting.

"There are people who are going to come looking for this shit." she finally bit out after a moment of frustrated silence. "I told you that but you don't see to want to listen."

"Fuck those fleabag Colombians, they're nothing to worry about." Walter scoffed, brushing off her reasoning.

"I'm not just talking about the Colombians. If the Thailanders find out about a drug three times more potent as their precious Ya-ba they use to keep industrial workers going they'll come for it too, by the hundreds." Krystal snapped, amazed at how naive Walter was being.

"So let the squint eyed rice pickers come too." he arrogantly spat, rolling his eyes at her.

"You think you're a professional because you've got a couple big time buyers in Las Vegas and one in Mexico. You think you're real badass vato with your sawed-off and a baseball bat." she laughed, mocking him.

"I don't know what you may have done in your lifetime old man, but I know what they've done. What they do to people every day. What they'll do to us if they trace the drugs back to us." she insisted, her tone becoming gravely serious.

"Cainville isn't exactly an ideal place to cook anymore either what with all these construction workers and tourists everywhere." she continued, staring him down.

"Besides bloodthirsty cartels and coma cozies coming after us it's too soon to set up shop after the murders. The investigation is still too fresh, all it'll take is one detective snooping around at the wrong moment." she told him with an air of finality, presenting her argument.

"I am the one running this operation. We start again when I say so." he bellowed, the temper Mac had inherited from him rising to the surface.

"Maybe it's time you retired, stepped down." She asserted, standing her ground when he stormed towards her, looking him straight in the eye.

When Walter grabbed for her she ducked out of reach, swinging around to grab his outstretched arm, using it to pin him painfully against the desk. Kristy twisted it until she heard his shoulder dislocate and she was sure she had his full attention.

"Your greed is going to fuck us all. I know you don't give a shit about me or Mac, even Regina. But what about Devon?" she whispered, pressing her body along his backside, using her weight to keep him down.

"Pretty little boy like him will get gang-raped in prison, become someone's bitch once they're done passing him around." She murmured against his ear. "And believe me that's a much kinder fate than ending up in one of cartel sheds, that is if they don't just put a bullet in his brain."

"If they had the slightest thought he had any information at all, or they were just having a bad day. They'll do unspeakable things to him, things much worse than what they did to me. And they'll make you watch." she told him softly in a way one would whisper words of affection to a lover.

After a moment of consideration on Walter's part Krystal watched his head lower to the desktop in submission before he nodded in agreement. She'd beaten him at his own game, using the person he loved to bend him to her will.

"The business starts when I say."


	3. The Girl

Rahul Esposito was a patient man. He believed good things came to those who waited. A theory that had served him well. He'd waited patiently and the product he'd been after had resurfaced months ago. A pleasant surprise since he'd assumed the creator of said product had perished in an unfortunate accident in the states.

Reclining against the cushioned couch on the veranda overlooking his lavish gardens, he motioned for his second in command to do the same. The mustached man in front of him sat cautiously. Though his boss was a calm levelheaded man, he had a very different side to him. One that would be the last thing you ever see if you were unfortunate enough to bring it out.

"Are the treatments helping your situation?" Rahul inquired, eyes sweeping over the scarred half of his companion.

Domingo nodded tersely in conformation at the mention of his disfigurement that resulted from chemical burns. His left side had all but been melted the night she'd escaped. The only thing that'd saved his life was the prisoner he'd brought back with him. Without the nigger he was sure the boss would have executed him for his failure.

"What news have you to bring me?" he demanded, lighting the cigar a servant procured for him.

"Senor we..we have lost the trail." Domingo informed him gravely, fearful of the reaction that was sure to come.

"Where?" he asked sharply, no longer leisurely puffing away on his Cuban.

"Senora, one of the northern states of Mexico." he supplied, relieved to see Rahul only wanted information at the moment and not blood.

"We found a distributor with three kilos of it locked away in a safe. He blew his own brains out the moment our men infiltrated his place." he continued, worrying his destroyed hand with his good one. "No records of business dealings were found and his phone records held nothing to further our search. We've deduced that the source isn't far though. Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, maybe Utah."

"Well that's a relief." his boss muttered, straightening his tie as he relaxed a bit, making his enforcer slightly confused.

"That means she is no longer under the protection of the Nigerians. There aren't any major claims on the area that are a threat to us. She's all alone." he elaborated with a sinister grin coming to his face.

"It's likely that she contacts the buyer from an untraceable number when their shipment is ready. Station a man where you found the product to wait for the call." he ordered, irritated that their search had been halted temporarily.

"Senor Esposito, news from the El Encanto project." a timid maid informed him when she was given permission to speak, extending the telephone outward with downcast eyes.

"Pardon me a moment Domingo I must take this, the damned natives refuse to cooperate." he sighed, snatching the phone from her trembling hands.

Dom watched as Rahul listened to the lieutenant's report. As his boss's grip tightened on the telephone and his crystal eyes rolled skyward he could tell it was not positive. The southern Colombian villages were perfect setups for drug manufacturing and resistant natives could not be tolerated. He was sure whatever solution he came up with would be downright barbaric, they were very much alike in that aspect of thinking. They didn't call him The White Butcher for nothing. El Carnicero Blanco.

"Here is what you do. Get the entire population out of their huts and into a large open area. Take their children and burn them alive one by one in front of everyone until the villagers agree. Shoot anyone who tries to intervene and do not call back until you have the answer I want." Rahul instructed over the line before hanging up.

"You just can't find any good help these days, idiots have no idea how to bend the people to our will. That's why you are so dear to me Domingo, you know how to get a job done right. For the most part." he added in reference to his largest failure, taking a sip of the cognac situated in front of him.

"Now tell me about the girl, this Krystal. It is too bad your communications were not up and running in time for me to witness her myself." he mused, studying the picture of a raven haired girl dressed in a cap and gown, staring vacantly back at the camera.

"She was creepy." Dom began, making Rahul's eyebrows rise in surprise. "I've tortured a lot a people in my time but this girl..it was like she wasn't even human."

"How do you mean?" Rahul asked, growing intrigued. He'd never seen his second in command shaken by anything let alone a pitiful little girl.

"She didn't react to the pain, didn't even flinch no matter what I subjected her to. I only had two days with her, but grown men have cracked under the procedure I put her through in hours." he elaborated, shuddering slightly at remembering the ghoulish smiles she would give him.

"Did she ever say anything?" Rahul questioned, gaze not wavering from the photo in his hand.

"No. She'd just laugh at me. It was more like a cackle really. Muy loco that one." he muttered, shaking his head. "I never believed the stories my abuela used to tell me when I was a kid but that girl must have a demonio inside her."

"A chemical imbalance in her brain is more likely." the lighter man scoffed, flicking an ash from his stogie off his white dress-shirt.

"Either way if we find her I'm going to use every trick I know to make that bitch scream." Domingo growled, clenching his mangled hand.

"_When_ we find the girl you will have your revenge my friend. After I get what I want." Rahul reassured him, snuffing his cigar out on the image of her stoic face.


	4. Blowing Off Steam

**Author's note: **_This violent smut was inspired by the alpha Dixon from last week's episode of TWD. Enjoy ;)_

* * *

Mac had a love hate relationship with Krystal's job. On one hand he loved watching her prance around all done up in the too tight uniform his father had ordered for her. It even said Luna Messa bar and grill on her left tit. Having her on his arm while he played pool when she didn't have anything to do wasn't half bad either.

But on the other, he hated all the out of town men trying to flirt with his woman. Peeling off her already barley there clothing with their eyes, drunken whistles and catcalls, the occasional brave wandering hand. The reasons he sometimes came home with bloody knuckles at the end of her work night.

Tonight was fixin' to be one of those nights.

* * *

After her encounter with Walter Kristy was itching to blow off some steam. And she knew just the perfect way. A little payback was in order for Mac.

Last week he'd picked a nice little cheerleader road tripping with her squad to tease Krystal with. She'd broken the girl's perfect nose and just about broke Mac's dick fucking him with a vengeance in the cab of his truck.

Returning to her table of unruly fraternity boys she collected their dishes, making sure to accidentally drop a fork and bend at the hip to retrieve it. Giving them all a spectacular view of the treasures beneath her black pleated uniform skirt.

Mid-bend she rose her eyes in Mac's direction, looking at him from beneath her lashes, flashing him a smirk as she exposed herself to the college boys. He was mouthing something at her she couldn't make out, but it was quite clear he was pissed. His knuckles turned white as his grasp around his beer bottle tightened when appreciative sounds were heard from the table behind her.

She could expect a sound fucking later tonight when she got home. They'd found out early on that angry sex was second only to make up sex. Sometimes they picked fights with each other just for that reason alone. What she didn't expect was the hard slap her behind got from the bravest of the frat boys. Abruptly straightening, she used the assault to her advantage.

"If you ever touch me again I'll break every one of your god damn fingers." she threatened quietly, bending slightly to whisper in the prick's ear.

She said it slowly, so close to his ear her lips brushed against it a few times, making him shiver slightly. All through her threat her eyes kept wandering to Mac, a small naughty smile playing on her lips to make it look like she was whispering something quite different.

When she pulled away, turning to collect her tray from a table nearby, an arm hooked around her waist, pulling her down into the dark haired guy's lap. From the corner of her eye she spied Mac, getting up. The sound of his bottle slamming against the bar had already been heard the moment he saw the arm reaching for her.

She had just enough time to grab the hand not holding her in place on the asshole's hard on. Bringing it downwards as if to slide his hand under her skirt she jammed the edge of the table in between his middle and ring finger, yanking downwards on the lower digits until she heard a satisfying snap and a scream.

Kristy didn't have time to see the crooked appendages for herself before fingers were weaving through her curls to yank her up out of the injured kid's lap. His hand stayed there, directing her towards the back of the bar, practically dragging her along when she stumbled once in her high heels. At first she thought Mac was taking her out back to that oh so special spot where he'd first taken what was his. That is, until the side of her face crashed into the ladies room door.

She had to catch herself on the sink he pushed her so hard. The defining click of the door's lock sliding into place told her she was really in for it.

"Stay there yew fuckin' lil slut." he roared, pushing her head down when she tried to look at him in the mirror, pulling her skirt up to expose her, jerking her panties down to her ankles.

With nothing else in sight to use Mac wrenched a picture frame from the wall. Gripping it in both hands he wound up, crashing it into her ass like he was hitting a grand slam home run. He kept at it, not stopping when she finally sucked in a pained breath of air. Still beating her until the glass shattered, several shards stabbing into her reddened flesh.

"Did I give yew permission ta fuckin' move?" he screamed when she jumped and straightened at the sting of the pieces cutting into her.

Mac threw the ruined picture aside, forcing her back into position before moving to pick the shards out of her ass. He ran his pointer finger along a particularly deep cut, coating it in crimson liquid before dragging it in a line along her lower back. He reloaded his finger several more times before maneuvering her around by her hair to look at her backside in the mirror.

There in the reflection was his name in backwards red letters just above the swell of her ass. Like a bloody tramp stamp from hell.

"Hmm I can't read it, what's that say? Mick?" she teased, grinning at him with every intention of making him blow his top.

"Says Mac, don' play stupid ya cunt." he snarled, smacking her throbbing ass with his palm before bending her back over the sink.

She was surprised at how gentle and feather light he was with her outer lips, sliding a quick finger along her shallow outer crease, wetting it before bringing it to his mouth to slowly suck clean as she watch his reflection. Kristy groaned when his reddened fingers entered her roughly, cramming in as much as he could until his palm restricted him from going further,

"Shouldn' be this wet from settin' on another man's dick. Er was it tha ass whoopin' that got ya soaked?" he hissed, curling his fingers downward to make her clench.

Truthfully it was the latter mixed with what had so rudely been interrupted by Devon earlier. But of course she opted to make it worse for herself.

"His little baby dick got me wet. What are you going to do about that?" she taunted at him, practically calling him out.

Mac's eyes narrowed into tiny slits, his lips smashed together in a hard line when his cheeks weren't billowing and concaving in rage induced pants while he unbuckled his belt. Normally when he asked a question like that she'd succumb to stroking his ego and telling him he owned every inch of her. She'd never taken it this far before. Neither had he.

The belt was doubled over, buckle to perforated end, clenched in his fist. The first few smacks weren't so bad but as he continued relentlessly she knew she'd pushed him too far this time. He didn't stop even when her behind was covered in fresh blood and bruises, the leather tearing into her already shredded ass. Only her first shaky sob broke through his red haze of anger.

He looked up to find her breathing hard with black mascara lines running down her cheeks.

"More." she breathed out unsteadily when he looked at her uncertainly with something bordering on regret.

The sound of his zipper being yanked down was heard along with his pants dropping to the floor before he roughly shoved his cock inside her. His hips and thighs smacking against her tender ass when he bottomed out served as her further punishment. Sure he was pounding into her at a pace worthy of ravagement but his anger had simmered out during her beating. That just wouldn't do for the level of violence she was craving now.

"His tiny cock felt so good rubbing up against me. I think I'll let him fuck me after you're done." she provoked, hanging her head to become unresponsive and anger him further.

Mac wound her hair around his fist so tight it ripped from her scalp in certain spots. He pulled her head up, forcing her to watch him pound into her from behind. His thrusts magnified to the degree that she felt something tear painfully, though she was soaked to the bone. Her scream was music to his ears.

"I'll fuckin' kill yew b'fore another guy'll get ta fuck ya. He'll haveta fuck yer pertty corpse." he rumbled lowly in her ear as he nestled his chin on her shoulder to watch the show as well.

When she closed her eyes on his unwavering gaze his other hand came up to clutch her jaw, squeezing until her midnight eyes opened for him again. Pulling her head around to face him until her neck resisted with a pop he smashed his mouth against hers, forcing his tongue inside when she resisted.

Once he'd had his fill of assaulting her mouth he pulled away, sneering at her before spitting in her face and roughly shoving it back to towards the mirror. When her head hung limply again he snapped.

"Yew looket me when 'm fuckin' ya, filthy bitch." he growled, snatching his discarded belt from the toilet seat.

Kristy knew she wouldn't last much longer as the leather strap was slipped around her neck and tightened until he could pull her head up by it. His grunts were her undoing combined with the belt cutting off her air supply. She came hard on his dick, pulsing with an intensity that made him stop and groan, swearing aloud before looking at her in disbelief through the reflective surface.

"Did I give yew permissin' ta cum?" he demanded in outrage, smacking her ass with his free hand before pulling out of her.

Mac spun her around sharply, picking her up by her raw ass before dropping her down harshly on the countertop. It's cold surface was a slight reprieve from the fiery pain scorching her bottom.

"Did I?" he asked quietly with a soft caress of his thumb along her black tearstained cheek, switching moods so quickly it almost disoriented her.

"N-no." she whimpered, still shaking slightly with the force of her orgasm.

His open palm met that same cheek without much force behind it. Just enough to turn her head away and give him a bare expanse of neck to bite into while he slowly slid his dick back inside her abused entrance. Grabbing her behind the knees he wrapped her legs around his hips while he continued his leisurely pace, retracting his length slowly until only the tip was left inside. Making the sting last longer. Once her ankles were locked at the base of his spine he used the belt to pull her forward until her forehead was pressed against his, forcing her to look up into his eyes.

"Who da yew belong ta? Who owns that pussy?" he challenged in a soft tone, taking in her dazed appearance.

"You Mac, only you." she vowed quietly, digging her heels into his ass to bring him back in.

"Thas right." he praised, kissing her lips gently before allowing her head to rest against his chest.


	5. Class Dismissed

"How are Mitosis and Meiosis different?" Kristy ground out through clenched teeth.

She was spread out across the couch, naked lacerated ass situated in Mac's lap with a textbook laid out in front of her on a cushion.

"Mitosis makes new cells with alla tha DNA an Meiosis makes new cells with half tha DNA." he answered after thinking for a moment, swiping a cotton ball saturated in peroxide across the last of the cuts.

"In what year was slavery abolished in the United States?" she quizzed him, jumping topics without warning.

"1869?" he guessed, unscrewing the cap to the antibiotic ointment.

"Close, 1863." she corrected him, jumping slightly at cold cream meeting the skin that was still on fire from it's earlier beating.

"We've still got a week, don't worry." she reassured him when he growled in frustration at being wrong.

Though she already had her diploma Krystal had enrolled in the accelerated credit night classes with Mac to support him. He'd struggled through all the preparation tests so far and the final one was looming on the horizon. She knew he was nervous and she was too. Cramming years worth of stolen education into a few months wasn't going very smoothly. He'd be lucky if he passed with the bare minimum score.

"Week aint 'nough." he grumbled, making sure to patch the gauze extra thick so she didn't bleed through her clothes in front of everyone at class tonight.

"If it isn't then we take the courses again until you pass." she proclaimed, ignoring his irritated huff.

When Dr. Mac was finished taping the last gauze pad to her butt she moved herself to straddle his legs, taking in his downtrodden appearance and discouraged frown.

"I believe in you Mac, I believe you can do this." she told softly him, rubbing her hands along his shoulders.

"And I believe it feels like I'm wearing a fucking diaper." she scowled, twisting to look over her shoulder at her own ass, bringing a smile to his face.

"Can't have ya bleedin' through in fronta pra'fesser dick-wad." he chuckled, running a hand lightly over her bandages.

Mac's distain for their teacher wasn't a secret. And the professor's for him wasn't either.

"We need to improve your reading level a little more. Did you start the book I assigned you?" she asked, snatching his wandering hands.

"Read mosta it, romance novels'er ridiculous. Aint no pussy taste like honey er peaches n' cream. Shits unrealistic." he grumbled, fighting to get his hands free and continue groping.

"And what purpose do those unrealistic words serve?" she questioned, entwining her fingers through his to further trap them.

"Imagery." he sighed, relenting to let their entwined hands drop to his chest.

"Very good." she praised him, moving his hands to her breasts as a reward.

"What is imagery by definition?" she demanded, showing no mercy when it came to studying even with her fleshy distractions filling his hands.

"Means ta….ta use..figurative language ta represent objects, actions an ideas ina way that appeals ta our physical senses." he struggled, grasping for the words through the thick hazy lustful fog clouding his brain.

"That is correct." she affirmed with a grin, leaning in to capture his lips.

"What imagery would you use to describe these?" she asked, jutting her chest out further towards him.

"Fun bags, hootenannies, human milk cartons." he joked, playfully slapping her tits around before tweaking and pulling at a nipple.

"Cut it out! If you make me start lactating again from playing with them too much I swear you're going to get a kick in the nuts." she warned, slapping his hand away from her rosy tip. "I still can't believe I let you milk me like a cow. You get enjoyment out of the weirdest shit." she added with a laugh, shaking her head while looking at him in a fond manner.

"Wut an tha lil game ya like playin', fittin' ma balls back in ther sockets aint weird?" he countered, raising a brow at her.

"Alright we're both weirdos. Let me get some clothes on so we aren't tardy again." she snickered, leaning in to peck his lips quickly before gingerly maneuvering herself off his lap.

As he watched her gauze swaddled retreating backside with a lopsided grin her words echoed through his mind. _"I believe in you Mac." _

His smile faded as the anxiety of the looming test washed over him. The fact that at least she believed he could do it gave him hope. He was scared shitless of failing and even more so at disappointing her. But he was going to give it everything he had. He felt he at least owed Krystal that.

Mac never thought he'd be working towards his high school diploma with an actual legitimate job and the same loyal woman warming his bed every night. It was the closest to normalcy he'd ever had in his life and he liked it. It almost felt like the bloodlust and murderous memories of his past belonged to someone else. And he'd never been happier to feel that way.

* * *

She'd dozed off in the car. The Freemont county community center their classes were held in was a good forty-five minute drive. That's all she got before he had to interrupt her siesta.

So when Mac looked over to find Krystal slumped against the open calculus book on her desk with her head burrowed into her arms, he didn't wake her. He knew she was getting next to no sleep in between her job, him, and the night classes. The fact that she could even doze off while sitting on her freshly injured behind amazed him.

"Mrs. Bradly I trust you have the correct answer as always." the teacher called out, glaring at her sleeping form.

When the professor called out for her answer a second time Mac leaned across the isle, jabbing her in the ribs with the eraser end of his pencil. Kristy's head popped up, hair sticking out in odd directions, drool glistening from the corner of her mouth, eyes unfocused with slumber. Giving the other students something to laugh at. The old fart thought he'd finally gotten her.

"Nine thousand two hundred and forty-seven point fucking three." she slurred out, glaring back at him, making Mac shake with silent laughter.

"Mr. Garcia solve the next equation." demanded the tweed clad prune at the front.

She'd just put her head back down when the irritating voice called Mac out. This was the hardest part of the classes for him. Being called on and usually not having the correct answer.

Cracking one eye open she used the limited light streaming in through her arms to solve it before Mac could let out his first anxiety riddled throat clear or embarrassed fidget. Sticking her fingers out near her armpit she held out four before balling them back up in a fist and sticking another one out.

"Tha value a X is forty-one." he gruffly mumbled out, staring down the displeased teacher.

* * *

When it finally came time for their lunch break so to speak Mac shook her lightly, snickering at her disoriented appearance.

"Thank god, as if I didn't hate high school enough the first time round." she grumbled only loud enough for him to hear.

Her uncoordinated footsteps had almost made it out the door when an insistent throat clear sounded out and her name were called from the desk at the front of the room.

"I'd like to have a word with you privately." the old man added when Mac followed behind her.

"I'll meet you out by the truck." she sighed with a nod over her shoulder at him.

"What can I do for you Mr. Campbell?" she inquired lethargically after he only silently scrutinized her for a few minutes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You can tell me just what you're doing here Mrs. Bradley." the sour old coot countered, crossing his arms as well.

"I'm here to get my education." she replied flatly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Don't piss on my back and tell me it's raining missy. You spend half my classes unconscious and the other half showing me up in front of my students. Your test scores are four point oes across the board, you even get the extra credit questions right. Now I ask you again. What are you doing here?" he demanded, wrinkled face reddening.

She was a little taken aback by the pure frustration shaking his frail frame. She let out a small laugh, shaking her head, averting her gaze down to her feet. She'd let him make his own assumptions, come to his own conclusions.

"I know it's got something to do with that good for nothing delinquent that's your shadow every night. If I catch you helping him cheat it'll be the end of it for the both of you." he hollered hoarsely, shaking his pathetic fist at her.

At his accusation she snapped, rushing forward to slam her open palms down on his desk. Making him jump and clutch at his heart.

"If I was helping him with fraudulent answers don't you think he'd be doing a bit better than just barely scraping by with minimal test scores?" she snarled, leaning closer to snatch his tie and use it to pull him in. "Mac is earning his education fair and square. And I'll be damned if some delusional dinosaur is going to fuck it up."

"You're going to forget this idiotic notion, you're going to stop putting him on the spot during classes, and you're going to stop disrupting my naptime. Am I clear Mr. Campbell?" she growled quietly, not letting go until he nodded silently in affirmation.

"I look forward to the rest of our educational time together, it's been a true learning experience." she sarcastically threw over her shoulder as she made her way out the door.

* * *

Mac watched from his leaned stance against the side of his trusty rusty junker. Fancy him being the studious one while she became the class bad girl.

"Mus be in tha fuckin' twilight zone." he muttered, eerily crossing his arms over his chest at the same time she did as the old windbag spoke to her.

He himself jumped slightly when she lunged lightning fast at the old man. Whatever he'd said must have struck a nerve because the face Mac could see illuminated in the harsh florescent classroom light was demonic. Taking a nervous drag off his cigarette he debated on intervening before she murdered their professor and he had to take the damned classes all over again.

Slight relief swept over him as she released the geezer after getting a nod. Mac watched her through the community center's windows. Effortlessly stalking her as she made her way through the hallways to the exit.

"Tha fuck was that alla 'bout? Prolly made 'em shit his old man diaper." he chuckled as she crossed the parking lot, drawing nearer with uneven steps thanks to the bandages.

"At first I thought he'd caught me using my fingers to give you the answer to that last question. He didn't and as it turns out he thought I was helping you cheat regardless. But I changed his mind." she told him with a sly smirk, stealing his smoke as she moved to lean against the truck beside him.

"Didn' use yer fingers, figured it out on ma own." he admitted bashfully, kicking a pebble away from his boot while keeping his eyes on the ground.

He let out a soft "oof" as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and a tiny body crashed into his chest. While her arms circled his neck he snaked his own around her waist, melting into the hug without hesitation.

"I'm proud of you Mackie." she whispered, squeezing him tighter before pulling slightly back when he lightly growled at the use of the annoying nick-name she favored.

"Got lucky it was just a easy one." he murmured with a shrug, tightening his grip so she couldn't go far.

"Shut up, let me be pwoud of my smawt man." she demanded in a sickening baby-talk voice, covering his mouth with her palm, pinching his cheek with the other hand.

Mac couldn't roll his eyes high enough at her antics.

* * *

Half way through their drive home it sounded like a bomb went off right in front of them. Usually frantic swerving accompanied such a sound as a result of a blown tire. But they slowly and steadily coasted to a stop instead with the clanking sound of car parts leaving a breadcrumb trail behind them. With smoke pouring from the seams of the hood Mac knew Ol' Red was done for this time.

"I'm sorry babe but you knew it was going to go soon." Krystal sympathized as she watched him sit back against the bench seat in defeat.

"Could maybe still fix it." he grumbled defiantly, opening the door to inspect the inner damage.

"Blow up Richie's phone 'till he wakes up." he instructed, throwing her his cell.

With a deep sigh she scrolled down to the name "Grease Monkey" and hit send. While ringing met her ear she hoped to hell nothing else happened in the upcoming week before the test. Mac couldn't afford anymore distractions.


	6. Hijo De Perra

**Author's Note: **_Hey readers and reviewer. I had an especially gleefully evil time writing this chapter. Enjoy :D_

* * *

Though she'd only been getting a scant few hours of sleep recently, Krystal enjoyed her mornings. She'd let Mac sleep in while she brewed coffee and took some time for herself out on the patio with a cup of black caffeine and a cigarette. The changing seasons called for a sweater and a pair of sweats on this particular morning while she watched the sun rise.

Though it wasn't quite winter yet she'd gone into panic mode the day, light, airy white flakes fell from the sky. You didn't take snow lightly where she was from. Thankfully none of it had stuck to the ground but she'd eyed the crystallized water resentfully none the less. She'd been living under the comforting delusion that it didn't snow out in the desert.

"Fucking bullshit." she muttered into her cup, taking another sip of the steaming liquid while snowflakes slowly floated down to the dirt.

Absentmindedly stroking the slobbering mongrel beside her while bringing the cigarette to her lips for another slow inhale of nicotine, she made a mental note of the morning to-do list.

'_Make sure Mac has clean coveralls for work. Dump a shit load of baby powder in his work boots to fight that god-awful smell…I wonder if he's got some kind of foot fungus.. Check Mac's homework. Get ready for work myself. Roll Mac his 'special cigarettes' for the day. Feed Haus. Cook breakfast. Wake my man-child.'_

"Come on mutt, lets get the day started." she yawned, chugging the rest of her coffee in one go.

* * *

Every time Mac woke up not terrorized by a nightmare he half thought he had to be dreaming and the terror wasn't far behind. This morning was no exception. The hand rubbing his back was small and soft aside from the slightly rough finger pads where prints had been burnt off.

Mac let out a quiet content sound, snuggling into the warmth and comfort of their bed, not keen on leaving it. Or having the hand cease it's caressing.

"Come on it's time to get up. Get dressed, breakfast is on the table." she told him quietly, watching as he rolled onto his back, unable to keep a grin from cracking her face at his bed-ruffled appearance.

Looking up at her he told himself it had to be a dream. Her hair was curled and teased into high perfection, makeup applied with skill, waitress uniform pristine and wrinkle free. And she was smiling, pearly teeth accentuated by pouty lips and extended scar lines.

'_Why she gotta be so fuckin' beautiful this early in tha mornin'?' _he wondered, noting the fact that he'd never thought of any woman as "beautiful" before.

"Fuckin' Christ!" he squealed, squirming to get away from the ice cold foot that had just lodged itself under his toasty thigh.

"Get moving or the other one is headed straight for your crotch." she threatened on her way out after she was done cackling at his reaction.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes Mac made his way to the chair she'd laid out his clothes for the day on. She babied the shit out of him but he wasn't complaining. It was a nice change to have someone taking care of him for once. And quite honestly he'd grown accustomed to the special treatment she lavished him with. Krystal knew just what he liked and how he liked it, from the garlic salt and ketchup on his eggs to the fabric softener scent he preferred. The best part was that she still did all these extra things for him unconditionally even if she was pissed at him, even if he never did anything in return.

'_S' called unconditional love dumbass, sumthin' ya aint never had b'fore….er love period.' _Mac told himself, trying to shake uncomfortable thoughts of the L-word from his mind.

He was distracted by a plume of white powder shooting from his boot when he shoved his foot inside.

"Krys wut tha fuck?" he demanded, walking into the kitchen with one boot in hand, the other untied and making faint white poot clouds as he walked.

"Your feet reek, I had to do it." she replied flatly, turning to look at him as she buttered the last slice of toast.

"I don' wanna be smellin' like a baby's ass all day." he growled, walking to the trashcan to dump out as much of the offending white powder as he could.

"It's better than smelling like rotting feet all day. Spray some of that cologne I got you around your ankles, that should mask the powder." she suggested, brining a small stack of toast to the table.

"Yer prolly right, that shit'll choke a horse." he grumbled under his breath as she returned with his plate.

"It's Calvin Klein and it smells sexy." she argued, sitting down with her own food.

"Smells like ass." he snapped, jamming a fork loaded with egg, toast and bacon into his mouth.

"Unrealistic imagery." she teased, looking up at him through her lashes with a smirk.

* * *

"What's the deal with Red?" Kristy asked before taking a deep inhale, holding it in.

She was thankful she had opted for the extra dark tint on the Denali's replacement windows. Perfect for concealing the thick cloud of smoke hanging in the air inside the vehicle.

"Aint no way ta fix it. M' gonna scrap it today." Mac answered glumly, accepting the joint from her outstretched fingers.

"You can keep it in the yard if you want to, I know how much it meant to you. It'll be like a hillbilly lawn ornament." she offered, not keen on having the eyesore stick around but willing to tolerate it for his sake.

Mac had used his very first cut from the business to buy it off a crooked car salesmen who wasn't concerned that he didn't have license. That truck was a symbol of the only form of success he'd had in his life yet. Which was why she offered to let it stay with the hope that he would have something bigger to be proud of in the future and would be willing to let it go one day. The way his face lit up was more than worth the annoyance of having the junker rusting away in front of the house. His goofy grin told her it'd be there waiting when they got back home.

"Since you'll be driving this for a while the registration is here." she told him, pointing to the glove box. "And just in case you get pulled over, this needs to go in your wallet." she instructed, handing him a flat piece of plastic.

"How in tha.." he muttered looking down at the very legitimate looking drivers license.

"Don't ask, I just know people. Snapped the picture when you were willing and plastered one night. And I used my birthday instead of yours since you won't tell me when it is." she elaborated, snatching the doobie while he gawked at the license.

She half suspected he either didn't know when his birthday was and was too ashamed to admit it despite insisting that he knew he was older. Or he didn't want her making a big fuss over it when the day came.

Mac knew she had connections from her old life before Cainville but he couldn't help the curiosity prickling him.

'_What tha hell kinda people was she runnin' with b'fore she came out here?' _he wondered while slipping the card into the clear patch in his wallet designed for holding it.

"I got a passport made too, just in case we ever need to flee the country. _'Or continent.' _" she half joked, cringing internally at the thought that accompanied her statement.

Kristy hadn't informed him of the dangers that may still be hunting her. Choosing instead not to worry him and keep the always present fear to herself. She didn't want him constantly looking over his shoulder or scrutinizing every person around like she had to. She didn't want that burden weighing on him when his life was finally almost worry free.

"I want you to finish that book today and start another one." she ordered, pulling a new one from her bag. "I don't care if you have to read it while you smoke on your breaks I want it done today." she demanded, pointing a ruby fingernail at his outraged face.

"Aint another sappy romance novel is it?" he almost pouted, accepting the book in one hand and the rolled drugs in the other.

"I only gave you that kind because I thought you'd be more inclined to read it if sex was in the material." she admitted with a shrug. "This one is a horror tale by Stephen King, one of my favorite authors."

"An it's a million pages long goddamnit." he complained, thumbing through a book three times the size of the one he was supposed to finish.

"Your page rate is getting faster, you'll get through it in no time." she scoffed, reluctant to discourage him by tell him about the much larger words used in king's literature.

"It's about that time again." she sighed, snuffing the roach out in the ashtray.

They rolled their windows down as usual, exiting the vehicle while the hotboxed car emptied itself of it's skunky contents. Mac watched as she walked slightly ahead, silent appreciation running through him for the black cotton tights she'd fought Walter to have added to her uniform in light of the changing weather. No more skirt show for other men.

As he caught up to her Mac presented her with a lit cigarette. Looking to further their time together before he had to leave. She accepted it, listening to the sound of him lighting one up for himself as they made their way across the lot and her heels clicking as she walked effortlessly across the smooth blacktop. Another war she'd won against Walter.

"I'll call a little before lunch to get your order." she huffed once both their smokes were flicked away.

It was still difficult for them even though they'd been doing it for months now. After getting accustomed to being together all day every day in the cave it felt unnatural to part ways for the day. But they'd endured with lunchtime quickies when Kristy delivered him lunch. That is, until the truck blew.

They both hesitated a few more minutes, reluctant to say goodbye. Until an obnoxious rapping on the window nearest them sounded. Walter's red face glaring at her shown through the glass, mouthing "Vámonos!". He looked more pissed off than usual today.

"I'll be there in a minute!" she screamed back at him, scaring a customer passing by.

Kristy let out a deep sigh, coming forward to wrap her arms around Mac's neck, leaning in to press her lips against his. He kissed her back, sliding a hand around the back of her neck to keep her in place when she tried to pull away too soon for his liking.

"See ya at lunch." he chuckled, taking in the view of her dazed appearance for a second before turning away.

Mac walked away with a smug smile on his face, hands shoved in his coverall pockets, pretty pleased with himself that he could still do that to her with just a kiss. While she was busy gazing at Mac's backside another sharp wrap on the window interrupted her oogling. Kristy stomped inside, purposely ignoring Walter's glare.

"I'm not paying you to play grab-ass on the front walk." he growled following after her.

"Fuck you Walter, fuck you very much." she retorted, throwing a finger over her shoulder as she headed towards the office to deposit her coat and purse.

Side stepping him when he attempted to talk to her Kristy made her way over to the jukebox. Slipping a quarter from her witnessing apron she selected one of the Motown songs she'd rallied to replace a few of the less played honkey-tonk songs. With 'Will you still love me tomorrow' by The Shirelles playing as her background music she started clearing neglected tables until Walter approached her.

"That bitch in the corner needs her order taken." he growled, pointing to the lady watching them from her table.

"Then clean this shit up while I take care of her, where's that damn busboy you promised me Walter!" she snapped, resisting the urge to smash a coffee cup into the side of his face.

Not allowing her jackass boss to ruin her mood she made her way over to her first table of the day singing along to the oldies tune she adored.

"Good morning, my Name is Kristy, I'll be waiting on you today. Can I start you off with something to drink? Coffee, juice, milk?" she cheerfully asked, pad and pen ready for the order.

The woman didn't answer, staring vacantly at her face before glancing at her name-tag which sported her full name thanks to Walter. At Kristy's throat clear the woman's icy eyes flickered back to her face.

"Young love, what a beautiful thing. I saw you out there with your boyfriend, just couldn't pull yourself away from him could you." the customer finally croaked out with almost a mocking humor in her voice, the tenor a harsh and ragged sound from years of hard drinking and endless packs of cigarettes.

"Yeah..he's really something." she replied with a slight laugh of her own, the hint of a blush coming to her cheeks.

"Can I get you something to drink or would you like to order now?" Kristy asked once more when the woman only stared at her again as though she were studying her face.

"Whiskey on the rocks." she bit out curtly, not taking her cold gaze from the face of the girl serving her.

"Alright I'll be right back with that." she told her a little less cheerfully.

Krystal had grown used to tourists staring at her scars, some even asking about them. But this woman's gaze was different. It wasn't out of curiosity or horror, but reorganization.

* * *

The lady in the corner stayed there all morning, ordering only a side of toast when Kristy returned with her drink aside from her repeated order for more booze. Quite frankly the eyes following every move she made had her on edge. The woman didn't talk to anyone or look at anything else aside from Walter occasionally. And even he had gone to hide out in the office, calling in Devon to man the bar. She could feel the woman's eyes on her even as she leaned over the bar to speak with Devon.

"Hey string-bean come here." she called out to him from the other end.

"That woman in the corner, is she still staring at me?" she quietly asked when he made it to where she was.

"Yup." he confirmed after glancing quickly around Kristy's form.

"Have you ever seen her before? She looks like she'd belong in the kind of crowd that left town when we closed up but I don't recognize her." she noted, referring to the woman's leathery skin and general skuzzy appearance.

"Nope, she wasn't one of the ones on the delivery route. I'd know, those bugged out faces still haunt me. Hard to forget." he replied, leaning in to gossip about the blond stranger.

"Hey do you know when Mac's birthday is by any chance?" she inquired after giving Devon the rundown on Miss Creep.

"No." he answered with a look like she'd asked him if he knew the square root of pi.

"Fuckin' A your father doesn't either. What the hell is wrong with you people, that's something you're supposed to know about family." she scowled, motioning for him to hand her the bar phone.

After she dialed the auto garage she pointed towards the direction of the lady again, raising an eyebrow at Devon in silent question. At his slight nod her lips pursed into a thin line while rings met her ear.

"Hey Rich I got a question. When Mac interviewed for the job what did he put down on the application under date of birth?" she demanded, confident this would be the end of her search.

Devon watch as her excited smile turned into a frown.

"What kind of second rate rinky-dink shop are you running over there Richie, who the fuck doesn't have their applicants fill out a form?" she bitched, massaging the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

"Alright whatever, get Mac on the line." she growled at his half-assed reply, huffing out a frustrated breath when she only got a "What?" over the line from him.

"Get Mac!" she shouted into the receiver of the phone, trying to out-screech the power tools drowning her out on his end, causing all heads to turn towards her instead of just the particular one.

"Tell me what you want for lunch so I can have it ready when you get here." she instructed into the receiver, her tone becoming noticeably lighter at Mac coming onto the line. "Alright, see you soon." she replied after writing down his order of chicken noodle soup and a turkey sandwich with fries.

The ridiculous giddiness sweeping through her at the anticipation of seeing Mac again was crushed and replaced with anxiety when she turned to see the woman raising her glass and shaking it at her. Plastering a fake smile on her face she refilled the woman's drink.

* * *

Mac sauntered into la Mesa and over to his usual place at the bar. He was beginning to wonder where Kristy was at until she emerged from the kitchen with his order balanced on a tray. She served him before coming around to sit on the stool beside him, getting a kiss for her troubles.

While Mac began to eat Kristy could see out of her peripheral vision that the woman in the corner was getting up from her seat, finally leaving she hoped. After a particularly weird question about what Mac's name was Kristy had commanded Devon to wait on her from then on. So he could deal with it if the woman tried to run out on her tab.

Krystal turned her head slightly more towards her when the woman headed in their direction instead of the exit. She stiffened beside Mac, in no mood to have the creepy cougar hitting on her man.

The woman stopped a few feet from them, swaying a bit in her drunkenness while she peered closer at Mac.

"Well looket my little cockroach all grown up. Come ere an give mama a hug." she slurred, opening her arms wide.


	7. Mama's Got a Brand New Bag

She couldn't believe the old dump was still in one piece let alone doing moderately well. There were actually cars in the parking lot. There was an actual parking lot period. Cainville in general wasn't the same deserted shit hole it was the last time she'd been in town. The fact that Walter's legitimate business wasn't shut down but rather thriving gave her a thrill of avarice.

'_Hopefully I'll be able to get the money I need out of him and then some.' _she thought greedily as she parked up front.

Arlene checked her makeup in the rear view quickly, adding another layer of bright pink lipstick to her cracked and chapped mouth. Walter's standards weren't too high back then and she doubted they'd improved since then.

The inside hadn't changed much aside from the bar being extended and a couple of pool tables added in the back. The atmosphere brought back fond memories of her sister and the depraved adventures they'd indulged in during their visits to Cainville.

'_Too bad we ruined it all getting knocked up.' _she mused, her first thought of her son in many years.

When Walter spotted her in the doorway his mouth dropped open in disbelief before his expression turned to one of anger. Storming around the bar he wanted nothing more than to backhand the smirk she sported right off her face as he approached.

"Get the fuck out of my bar." he growled quietly so none of the patrons would hear.

"Take your hand off me right now and seat me or else I will make a scene in front of all your nice paying customers and you know I will." she threatened when he grabbed her upper arm to throw her out.

Walter didn't remove his hand, instead tightening his grip as he steered her over to a vacant table in the corner away from customers.

"Sit, we need to talk." she demanded, pointing to the chair across from her as she dug for a pack of cigarettes in her purse.

"Talk about what? How you stuck me with a pain in the ass kid who probably wasn't even mine?" he snapped, throwing himself into the chair.

"I'll get right to the point. I owe some very dangerous people money and I don't have it." she admitted, ignoring Walter's sarcastic question while she lit up.

"You got a lot a nerve coming in here asking me for money after what you did. You're not getting a single cent from me." Walter spat, face reddening in anger at her audacity.

Arlene sat studying him for a moment, trying to measure all the angles she could play.

"Is Mackenzie still alive?" she inquired, turning away to gaze out the window apathetically.

"Yeah he is. He goes by Mac now and he's doing pretty well for himself, not that you give a shit." he sneered, showing only a scant bit of fatherly pride for his son in light of her presence.

"He has money?" she asked, immediately more interested in her son at the prospect of getting some cash out of him.

"In a way yes. But good luck trying to pull the 'mommy's here now' bullshit you're no doubt cooking up in that conniving brain of yours you fucking deadbeat. You've been replaced. And she's the one with the money." he laughed with a smirk, almost excited for Krystal to arrive for once.

"What do you mean replaced?" she snapped, blowing a stream of smoke in his face, ashing on his floor.

"Hell he's practically married now, moved in with her and everything. She takes care of him real nice. To the point that it crosses over into the motherly Oedipus zone in a way. She's the mama you never were and more." he taunted, more than happy to use their son's weird relationship to take a dig at Arlene.

"Who is she." she questioned while pursing her age lined lips, visibly begrudged at the thought of some other woman taking care of her baby boy, a definite first for her.

"That's the best part." Walter chuckled, remembering her rage and jealousy upon finding out about her sister stealing Arlene's man while she had another one engaged to her and possibly getting knocked up by Walter.

"It's Charlene's girl, Krystal." he gladly told her with a twisted grin, leaning back in his chair with smug satisfaction.

Arlene's eyes widened, her mouth hanging loose with shock at all the disgusting implications that his answer held.

"Is she yours?" she finally sourly bit out, more outraged about Charlene having possibly carried Walter's child than the possibility of her son shaking up with his sister like a backwoods freak.

Walter kept his relaxed position only giving a slight shrug, smirk held firmly in place as he made her wait for an answer, glancing out the window only to have his smile widen.

"Here come the happy couple now." he teased, pointing to the pair crossing the parking lot side by side.

All Arlene could see of the girl at a distance was her sister's oil black hair blowing in the wind. She wasn't interested in getting a glimpse of the man her son had grown into, just the meal ticket at his side. He wasn't much to look at anyways in her opinion.

"Is the bitch yours or not." she growled, not taking her eyes off them as they came to stand a few windows away while finishing their cigarettes.

"We had a paternity test done but I never saw the results, only they know." he finally admitted, looking around her to the several tables that needed service.

"Look I'm not giving you the money and I seriously doubt she will either. Especially if Mac has told her any lovely childhood stories about you." he speculated, getting up from the table to get Krystal into work.

"I'm not leaving until I get what I need." she insisted, grabbing onto Walter's wrist as he tried to walk away.

"You'd best just get out of town quietly before she knows who you are." he advised, snatching his wrist out of her grasp to knock on the window closest to them.

Arlene watched as her niece and her son locked lips, the wheels in her head turning as she struggled to form a plan. She figured the best bet was getting in good with her son and hope he hadn't spilled any of her dirty deeds from his early years. The way the girl was gazing after him all love struck didn't slip by her, she planned on using that love to get what she wanted.

"Send the little cunt to take my order." she barked out at Walter as he tapped on the window a second time.

She was definitely Charlene's daughter. If the raven hair hadn't tipped her off the attitude definitely did. Arlene had to admire the girl's disregard for the facade of authority Walter tried to exude.

As the hussy approached her table and offered her something to drink she couldn't take her eyes off the girl's destroyed face. Though there weren't any other waitresses she felt she had to check her name tag for confirmation. It was her. And she perfectly matched the description of a girl the men Arlene owed a great deal of money to were searching for.

Anyone involved in anything concerning drugs south of the border had heard rumors of a black-haired girl with a Glasgow grin being sought by El Carnicero Blanco. Spouting off some nonsense about young love she kept herself composed but on the inside she was ecstatic, studying the girl's face while she asked for an order again. Fairly sure she'd just found her ticket to freedom Arlene figured a few celebratory drinks were in order.

While Krystal was busy collecting the dirty dishes from a table nearby in the late morning sun streaming through the windows she quickly snapped a discreet photo, making sure to catch the scars highlighted by the rays of sunshine. She sent it to the enforcer handling her debt and waited. By noon she was beginning to think it wasn't the right person. Until she received a call from a number she did not recognize just as the girl was busy talking with the bartender. Keeping her eyes on the prize she contained watching her as she answered the phone.

"Make no move to take her yourself she his highly capable and dangerous. We need her over the border with her product in order to obtain her. A condition for which we have a plan in place. What you owe is forgiven. You are to stay close to her, watch her and report to this number. You will be compensated greatly for your services." a deep voice commanded before hanging up.

With all her troubles ended by a simple one sided phone call she raised her glass at Krystal, shaking the ice around to signify her need for another celebratory drink. This one was especially in her honor.


	8. Willing to Fight For You

**Author's note: **_Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, my grandmother passed away the day before thanksgiving and her viewing & funeral were Friday and Saturday. So all that on top of good 'ol procrastination._

* * *

Her response to put herself in between Mac and what she saw as a danger to him was automatic. A natural reflex to protect the person she cherished most in the world. Something the woman in front of her had failed miserably at doing, her one supreme duty as a mother.

Krystal couldn't hear nor see anything else around her, rage tunneling her senses to focus on the threat. She started forward with every intention of ripping Arlene's throat out with her bare hands. And she would have killed her right there in front of countless witnesses if not for the strong arms encircling her waist, lifting her off the ground.

When Mac heard those words he just about choked on his soup while a chill ran up his spine simultaneously. Swiveling around on the bar stool he was afforded a few seconds to take in the sight of an extremely aged and haggard version of what he vaguely remembered his mother to look like. Before his line of vision was blocked by black hair and a trembling frame.

He didn't even have a second to absorb the shock of seeing the deserter bitch again before Krystal was lunging for the woman in front of her. Growling and snarling unintelligible words she sounded more like a rabid she-wolf than a human female. Mac acted fast, getting her in an iron clad hold against his chest and removing her chance of wriggling free by taking away her footing on the ground. He had to retreat a few steps when she resorted to her only option of striking with her feet, spiked heel missing his mother's face by an inch.

Her struggling ceased after a few more moments of unrestrained enraged screaming and thrashing when she realized there was no getting free without hurting Mac.

"Por favor, déjame matarla." _please let me kill her_ she hissed as she hung limply in his arms, never taking her murderous gaze off the wasted whore staring openmouthed at her shockingly vicious display.

"No hay demasiada gente mirando" _No there's too many people watching_ he growled in her ear, truly wanting to let Krystal give that cunt the beating of a lifetime.

Mac was disturbed to find he had mixed emotions about letting her kill his mother. Somewhere inside him was the little wide eyed child that had waited hopefully for her return. Even though Krystal filled the void his mother had left in him and he had no need for her, he couldn't help not wanting her dead.

Just when Kristy seemed to have her head about her again and he let go of her his mother opened her mouth.

"Come give your mother a hug you worthless little shit." Arlene sneered, angered in her intoxication that her son refused to even look at her.

Mac wasn't fast enough this time and gasps along with a scream or two issued from customers as they watched their waitress tackle the older woman to the ground. He stood there for a moment admiring the insane gleam in her eyes as Krystal slammed her fist into his mother's face over and over with a hand full of blond hair clutched in the other.

Arlene got in one good punch that sent the crazy bitch reeling, knocking her from the straddling position she'd used to entrap her. She only managed to crawl a foot away before she felt a bear trap of a hand closing around her ankle, dragging her back.

She was flipped over onto her back and the sight that met her swelling eyes was chilling. Small strong hands wrapped around her throat while bodyweight was used to further cut off her air supply. Her blurring vision held onto the black eyes locked with hers. They were wide and unfocused, bloodthirsty.

"You will not-" Kristy began venomously with bared teeth as she watched the woman beneath her choke and fight feebly for air. "-speak to him that way." she continued with flared nostrils and spit landing on her victim's face, digging her nails into the soft flesh of Arlene's throat for added pain.

Someone nearby muttering something about calling the police snapped Mac into action. Hauling Kristy off him mom was no problem, but getting her to let go was a battle.

As soon as she felt herself being lifted up she released the windpipe in exchange for two fists full of straw colored locks. She jerked her arms as Mac continued to drag her away, laughing maniacally when an agonized shriek ripped through the air and she held up clumps of golden hair.

* * *

Walter could hear the catfight happening in his bar but he didn't have the cojones to even step outside and enjoy it. Judging by the pained screech and then the deranged laughter that was making it's way closer to his office door, he figured Arlene would he hightailing it out of town.

His enjoyment at that thought was short lived as Mac busted through the door, walking backwards while towing a psychotic Krystal. He was having a hell of a time dragging her inside the office, adrenaline and rage making her grasp on either side of the doorframe vice-like as she continued to scream obscenities at the target of her rampage.

Mac resorted to smashing her already bloody knuckles with his fist, hurling her inside the room as soon as her grip wavered. With his back pressed against the hastily closed door he let an exhausted huff as he watched her advance on his father next.

"You motherfucker." she started, throwing a clump of blond hair that was still entangled around her fingers at him. "You knew who that bitch was and you didn't tell me. You made me fucking serve her you piece of shit!"

A lamp from Devon's desk smashed across Walter's sending glass and ceramic shards flying at him as Mac bulldozed her towards the supply closet, the only other option of containing her. Slamming the door shut he encased them in darkness.

He was sure if he didn't have his arms around her like a straight jacket she'd be beating the shit out of a shelf of cans, damaging her hands further.

He didn't say a word, just held her still as she let out a few more hoarse screams in frustration. When her ragged breathing finally calmed and she was only shaking a little he chanced uncurling one arm to reach for the cord dangling above their heads. The overhead bulb illuminated a train wreck.

Her perfectly curled hair was ratty and wild, cheek gashed and bleeding, most likely from a ring Arlene was wearing. Thankfully most of the blood on her uniform was from his mother's face. And while he'd seen her cry once before, he was shocked to find nearly dried black trails had ran down her face during her hysterics. She looked up at him with wide apologetic eyes for all the trouble she'd caused him before she buried her face in his grease covered jumpsuit, clutching at the soiled material with her fist for stability.

The tables had turned for once with Mac acting the part of responsible big brother and her the unruly younger sibling, taking on his usual role. Instead of jumping at the opportunity to tell her how irresponsible it'd been to start a bar fight in the middle of the afternoon in front of all those customers he chose to hold her tighter, stroking her hair as his fingers awkwardly caught in knots here and there.

Mac thought about the drugged up mushy ramblings and heartfelt declarations she'd spouted months ago about protecting him, even from his own family. He never really thought she'd been serious about it, until she proved it today. It was ridiculous notion to him but at the same time it wasn't, that for the first time in his life he felt genuinely safe with this vicious little woman by his side. Having someone who is willing to fight for you with everything they have is a priceless reassurance.

"Wuts with ya tryin'a make me a orphan today?" he half joked once her body stopped it's angry trembling.

She sucked in a long shaky breath and let it out slowly before answering him, trying to keep calm and get an actual thought into her head.

"I just…lost it.. you know?" she murmured from her place against his chest, ear pressed to the organ his mother had once tried to stop with a knife.

He let out a chuckle, knowing exactly what she meant. Many of the bodies they'd destroyed had been created due to him 'losing it'.

"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

She couldn't imagine what seeing Arlene was doing to him emotionally on top of having to deal with his woman trying to murder his mother. He only shrugged but after a few more moments of calmed silence Mac figured she was composed enough to hear what he was about to say.

"Look I know ya want er dead b'cause a what she did ta me, an I hater er fer it too… but she's still ma mom..kinda. I jus want er gone, not dead." he finally managed to get out, struggling with how to word it.

When Kristy's head snapped up he expected her to go crazy again. But he was pleasantly surprised when her hands came up to cup his face, her lips touching his softly.

"I could never be so forgiving to someone who'd wronged me like that. I had the chance to do so a long time ago and I chose wrong." she confessed softly.

"You're a much better person than I am Mac." she praised him sadly, running her thumbs along his jaw line before letting her hands drop from his face.

He knew she was talking about her own mother but he highly disagreed with her last statement. He wasn't asking her to spare his mother's life out of forgiveness but weakness. What he saw as strength in her decision to let her mother die she saw as shameful. He wished he had the will to do what she'd done himself. Instead of adhering to the same spinelessness that'd kept him under Walter's control. A weakness for people that weren't his true family at all.

Her palms running over his chest brought him out of his thoughts, back into the storage closet. When she reached for the doorknob his hand caught hers gently, being mindful of its injured state.

"I'm good. I'll keep it together, I promise." she assured him when he looked down at her uncertainly.

"I'm serious. I just want to go out there and pack up your lunch so we can go home." she insisted, keeping her breathing even and her stance relaxed to help convince him.

Mac figured letting her near Walter first would be a good preliminary trial. He turned the knob slowly, releasing the door to let it swing outwards revealing his father across the room bent over with a dust pan in hand.

"Walter you're an asshole. And as long as _she_ is in town you're short a waitress." she informed him as she donned her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder.

With his father still in one piece he felt a bit more confident about her going out into the dining area. Until they spotted his mother sitting at the bar nursing a drink with a bag of ice pressed to her face thanks to Devon.

"You know what, I want you to go out the back door and wait in the car while I pack it up." she almost ordered in an authoritive, turning on her heel in the office doorway to face him.

"Jus ferget it, I can eat at-" he began, foreseeing another brawl if he wasn't present to stop it.

"Shush I know how much you like the chicken noodle soup from here." she cut him off, taking note of the way he kept his eyes averted from where his mother was seated. "I don't want you subjected to her again. Just go, I'll behave."

"Know ya will, since ya _promised_." he pointed out, something he'd been anal about since she'd broken her promise not to leave him that horrible night by the fire. "But I doubt she'll b'have."

"I won't give in if she tries to bait me. Mac just go get the car and pull it up front." she groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache coming on.

"Can I stay home from work if I do?" he negotiated, willing to risk them getting into it again if he got to play hooky once more.

"Yes." she snapped, pressing her lips into a thin line.

He looked overjoyed, like a little boy getting to stay home sick from school when he really wasn't. Speaking of school.

"But you're going to study, not fuck around." she added, calling out after his back as he retreated out the rear door.

"You're on your own unless Walter comes out of hiding." she informed Devon as she passed him up.

After she retrieved the appropriate containers for Mac's forgotten lunch she made her way to his plate. Which happened to be right next to Arlene's seat. There was a staring contest that ended with the older woman averting her eyes down to her drink before Krystal started pouring soup. Kristy had just finished snapping the lid closed on Mac's soup when his mother began to say something.

"I know only a fraction of the damage you've caused him by your own hand, let alone the secondhand effects you're responsible for from abandoning him with Walter." Kristy cut her off, using the styrofoam box in her hand to punctuate her words.

"You've been touched by the angel that is your son today and you'd best pray he doesn't share anymore of the harm you've done him with me or else I may not be able to restrain myself for his sake in the future." she growled out through her clenched teeth.

"You are _just _like your mama girlie." Arlene hissed out with a bloody smirk as she watched the girl pack away a turkey sandwich.

The foam box cracked in her hands at the woman's insult. Her breathing hitched and her murderous glare told Arlene she'd hit a rare nerve. Krystal was shaking with the effort she was putting into restraining her violent urges. She would have surely broken her promise if not for the horn blaring outside the Mesa's front porch.

"Then you know _just_ how fucked in the head I am. You need to leave Cainville while you still can." she threatened in a low rumble, snatching her containers from the bar.


	9. Captive Cuddles

**Author's note:** _depression, deaths, family brawls, my muse avoiding me, blah blah blah. Readers, Mac, Krystal, I'm sorry. And I'm trying._

* * *

"S' broken goddamnit." Mac insisted, turning Krystal's still steadily swelling right hand to inspect it further.

"No it's not." she argued, wincing when he forcefully moved her fingers around. _'I fucking hate it when he's right' _

"An how do ya know that? Ya got fuckin' x-ray vision?" he sassed, holding fast to the ends of her fingers while he poured rubbing alcohol over her shredded knuckles.

"Fuck you!" she screeched, the burning sting making her voice raise a couple octaves. "I just know shit, okay?" she added once she dislodged her teeth from her bottom lip.

"Prove it aint broke then, move it on yer own." he demanded, releasing her hand to sit back and cross his arms confidently.

She wiggled her swollen digits reluctantly, gritting her teeth when pain shot through her hand. A piece of bone protruded unnaturally beneath the skin. Which made Mac raise his smartass eyebrows in a smug fashion and flatten his already thin lips into an almost invisible 'I told you so' line.

"Yer goin' ta tha-." he started in an end of discussion manner.

"Rule number three, No hospitals unless you're dying." she interjected stubbornly, sticking her know it all nose in the air.

"Them rules don' apply, ya aint a criminal mastermind no more, jus a uppity waitress." Mac snapped, unrolling gauze to lightly wrap around her still bleeding flesh.

Kristy froze mid-childish remark, mouth hanging open for a second before she snapped it shut. He was right. She didn't have to adhere to the guidelines and regulations she'd abided by for almost as long as she could remember. She was free to be a regular person for once. But that still didn't help the fact that she hated hospitals and didn't want to go.

"Go get me two socks and some duct tape, I can make a splint on my own just fine." she offered, hoping he'd say 'fuck it' and just let her do it her way.

"What ya need a splint fer? Sumthin' broken?" he sarcastically asked before continuing to fight her. "Nuh-uh them bones heal tha wrong way an yer hand's gonna be all jacked up."

"Nice to see you got to the skeletal section of the anatomy book." she scowled, getting up to pop his food in the microwave one handedly.

"If eat your lunch, bring a text book so I can quiz you on the drive there, and a stack of practice tests for the waiting room. Then I'll go to the hospital." she bargained, fully intending on making him suffer along with her.

Mac remained stony and silent, glaring at the first aid box in the middle of the table. After all the shit he'd already dealt with today he didn't want to sit in a waiting area filled with sick and injured people. With homework to occupy his time no less.

After setting his food in front of him Kristy sat at the opposite end of the table, watching with a tight self-satisfied smile until he relented and started eating.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later they were seated in a corner of the Freemont county hospital's waiting room. Kristy using a magazine in her good hand to shield herself from the microscopic germ infested air around them, Mac looking up from his practice tests every once in a while to watch her with amusement.

After another thirty minutes and a hundred coughs in her direction later she threw the feeble mask aside, plucking up a pamphlet profiling the hospital's doctors to read instead.

"Krystal Bradley." called a nurse from a door next to the reception desk, a definite relief.

Mac almost lost his papers everywhere when she snagged a hold of his shirt and hauled him right along with her to the exam room the nurse presented them with.

"Remove your shoes and follow me please, we need to get your height and weight." the perky medical assistant instructed, smiling brightly at her.

Kicking off her work heels with resounding thuds against the wall that made the little ray of medical sunshine jump, Krystal followed her out into the hall. And when she turned around with her back pressed against the tape measure along wall she was unhappy to see Mac had followed as well.

As she ascended the scale and the nurse began moving weights at the top to balance out her cheeks reddened a little. What woman wants her man knowing how much she weighs? When finally the scales stopped teetering Mac just happened to let out an unrelated throat clear, getting an icy glare from Kristy as she whipped around to face him.

"Shut up, winter is coming." she grumbled, pushing past him to return the their room.

"Ya think I give a shit, jus means a bigger ass fer me ta play with." he snickered with a swat at her behind before the nurse joined them in the exam room once more to ask a plethora of questions and perform the standard tests.

"Blood pressure is a little high." she noted, prompting Krystal to look pointedly at Mac as the cuff was taken off and her arm began regaining feeling.

"I just need you to sign this form stating you aren't pregnant and then we can get some x-rays." miss nurse announced, extending a clipboard Kristy's way.

A second before she reached out to accept it Krystal caught the expression on Mac's face. One of a man floating in a daydream, a fantasy that would never solidify into reality. Relief and slight disappointment colored his face next as she snatched the board, his expression becoming blank once he realized she was watching him.

"The doctor will be in shortly." the nurse assured them after a quick trip to the x-ray room.

"What was that." she demanded as soon as they were alone.

"Wut?" he bluffed, immediately looking down at the papers in his lap.

"Don't what me. You know exactly what. You were hoping I couldn't sign the form." she heatedly whispered as though she was afraid Mr. Stork would overhear and drop an infant into her lap.

"Was not." he argued, pretending to work out a math problem on a sheet of scratch paper in hopes that she would let the subject drop.

"You were too, chicken shit." she hissed, snatching the scribbled on paper with her good hand.

"So what if I was." he snapped, finally looking up at her.

"We're not fit to be parents Mac, you know that, look at our own." she insisted after getting over the momentary shock of what he'd just admitted.

"Don' mean we'll be like 'em." he shot back, ready to fight with her just for the fuck of it.

"What is this, early male menapause? You don't actually want a child, you're just looking to pick a fight because you're upset. There will be no knocking up of this vagina." she announced, pointing to the crotch of her leggings.

"If I wanted a baby I'd tie yer ass up an impregnate ya, ya really think ya got a choice?" he screamed, no doubt startling staff and patients out in the hallway.

"Yeah Mac, I thought we were past all that bullshit." she answered quietly, shaking her head slightly at him and partly at the tingling that happened at his mention of restraints and penetration.

"And if you don't remember correctly the last time you tried that shit and I was sober you got knocked the fuck out." she reminded him a little louder, staring him down until he looked away.

They sat silently for a little while on opposite sides of the room, her on the exam table, him in the guest chair with his feet propped up on the doctor's stool.

"Maybe…if you're still on about this in a couple years…just maybe, okay?" she growled out quietly, confident this was just a way for him to blow off steam at the moment.

Mac only grunted in answer, stunned that she even offered him that. He knew she hated children in general, as did he. He had absolutely no intention of having one of their own any time soon but the knowledge that she'd be willing to have one just because he wanted it was just one more example of the extent she was willing to sacrifice for his sake.

Of course the doctor wasn't in shortly. As is the standard for any medical professional. Kristy had almost finished grading Mac's third practice test when a knock sounded on their door. The prospects of him passing the ever encroaching final hurtle were looking bleak which was why she had a particularly worried expression on her face when the doctor entered.

"Oh don't fret my dear it's nothing serious. Well just set the bones back into place, get you fitted in a splint, and have you on your way." the kindly old gentleman told her as he looked up from her chart.

"Now I am a bit confused." he began, clipping one of her x-rays up to a lighted screen. "What I overheard out in the hall would suggest spousal abuse but I note no bruises on our young man here to explain your broken hand and I see no ring on his fingers to produce that nasty gash." he deduced, rising his gray brows at her.

"To put it simply I met my mother in-law for the first time today." she muttered, studying the illuminated breaks.

She'd began to attempt correcting the bones herself before the Doctor caught her hand in his, her growl at the pain alerting him and making Mac jump from his seat.

"I see you are quick to learn Miss Bradley but let's leave this to the professionals, hm?" he reprimanded, pointedly looking at her over the top of his spectacles.

"Would you like a local anesthetic to numb the area?" he offered, taking hold of her injured limb.

"A masochist we have here." he joked when she declined with a shake of her head.

"One, two, and.." he counted before a snap was heard and she let out a strangled noise.

Mac was already by her side, earlier petty argument completely forgotten. As the doctor set the second bone with a snap she blindly grabbed for his hand, breathing deeply as she laced her fingers through his. The humorous thought that this was the first time they'd ever held hands passed through her mind before the final bone was jolted into place, making her squeeze Mac's hand tightly the way most girls would their first time getting a tattoo.

"So how long am I going to be trapped in this?" she inquired, eyeing the stiff contraption the doctor was hobbling towards her with.

"Oh about three weeks I'd say." he replied as though it were nothing at all while he fit her arm into the splint.

Mac could practically feel her irritation travel along her good arm and through their still entwined hands into his body when she learned how long she would be incapacitated.

"I'm going to prescribe some pain medication just incase it becomes too much to bear." the old man added with a pat to her shoulder. "In the meantime no more fights young lady, in-law or otherwise."

Mac gave a small laugh at the grumbled response she gave under her breath about not making any promises as they exited the exam room.

With a slip of paper prescribing her some wicked pain meds stashed away in her purse, Mac was bugging like she was a pez-pill dispenser.

"You can't have any until we get home. Come to think of it you shouldn't have any period, you have to drive to class tonight." she nagged, watching through the drive-thru window as a pharmacist counted out the pills.

"Meds'll wear off by then." he assured her, accepting the clipboard she needed to sign in order for the feel-good candy to be released.

When they finally passed the Luna Messa she gave up the goods, watching as he ripped open the bag and retrieved the bottle while driving one-handedly.

"Just one or two, I don't need you all-" she began as he put the car in park next to his deceased truck. "God damn it Mac!" she screeched when he shoved a small handful of Vicodin in his mouth, chewing them like they didn't taste of bitter chemicals.

He gave her a white chalk and saliva mixture filled grin before pocketing the bottle and getting out. She sat there a few seconds just plain defeated, tired of fighting to keep him in line.

'_It's no wonder Walter gave him up to me without any fuss.' _she thought before her door opened and her eyebrows raised in surprise, the gesture reminding her of how sweet he could be when medicated.

Krystal already knew what would come next. A traumatic family experience plus drugs equaled rough 'bury my fucked up emotions in your pussy so I don't have to deal with them' sex.

She was struggling to get her uniform shirt off when she heard him enter the bedroom, felt his body heat against her back before he generously assisted in removing her clothes.

When the bloodstained material was flung to the side he kissed her shoulder gently. Brining a hand up to stroke the side of her neck before he unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms, picking it off when the strap caught on the cuff of her splint.

Kristy titled her head back to rest on his shoulder when his hands snaked around to cup her breasts. His calloused fingers rolling her sensitive tips until she'd had enough of the delicious torture and pulled away from him.

Mac watched as she stumbled half out of her leggings, deciding to throw her onto the bed before she knocked herself out. Yanking the clingy material down her body he started on his own work clothes next, shedding them in record time.

He looked down at her with a dopey grin, the drugs finally kicking in as he crawled onto the bed, settling his shoulders against the back of her thighs as he threw her legs over them roughly, his mouth dropping to her slightly wet slit.

She hadn't expected this. Sure, he went down whenever she asked and quite a few times when she didn't. But it wasn't normal for him to be so considerate when it came to comfort sex. Rather than ask what was up she simply laid back and enjoyed.

Some time later his movements were getting sloppy, he was practically drooling all over her already saturated flesh and she half worried he was going to drown in her snatch.

"I don't have to cum every time, sometimes I like just getting fucked." she told him, craning her head to look down where he was nuzzling her vagina with his face in a daze.

Her words must have registered in his mind because he came crawling up her body, sinking his cock inside her gripping, slippery, opening slowly before he bottomed out, his balls resting against her ass, the rest of his body following suit.

"Wud ya..jus…hold meh." he half mumbled half slurred out, resting his head in the space between her breasts, really giving her no choice.

Kristy was surprised he could even maintain a hard-on with how relaxed the rest of his body was. With a small half smile she rested her bum arm along his shoulder, his arms having slid underneath her back to hold her as if she were his teddy bear or safety blanket.

She stroked his head and back with the other, running her nails along his skin lightly every now and then to make him shiver.

"Mac get the blanket." she ordered when his body heat failed to keep her from letting out a shiver of her own in the chilly afternoon air.

'_I need to get on him about fixing that damn heater.'_ she thought, adding it to her ever present mental to-do list as Mac twisted around to drag the comforter upwards, her insides giving a twitching squeeze at his movements.

As Mac resumed his earlier position and drug the blanket over them she settled in, getting used to breathing through his added weight while she continued petting him.

In the first month after her return from insanity she'd been forced to adjust to sleeping in this position, the only one Mac would allow out of fear that she'd disappear on him in the middle of the night. It'd been near unbearable the first few evenings, her thighs cramping from being held wide open so long, hyperventilation kicking in until she steadied her labored breathing, back aching until he mercifully shifted positions in his unconscious state. Once her body adjusted to what she called 'captive cuddling' it was easy to fall asleep with him crushing her for his own psychological comfort.

Kristy knew if he was reverting to this instead of sex he'd been effected by Arlene a great deal more than he'd let show. When her palm ran over the raised lines on his back a thought came to her. One that seemed so logical she felt incredibly stupid for never thinking of it before.

With a plan forming in her head and a worry over his reaction on her mind she filed it away, more and more details getting added to this notion. Along with a small puddle of drool that was beginning to grow on her chest under Mac's face.


	10. Breakfast In Bed

**Author's note:** Guys I'm touched by all the well wishes and whatnot, thank you! :)

Also, shame on you all for not noticing, or at least not mentioning the Boondock Saints reference in the last chapter! There's a game of thrones one in there too but idc about that one because I don't even watch the show.

There has been quite a few requests for a Christmas themed oneshot, which is probably all my fault because of those Bad-Santa-Mac edits I made. My answer is still maybe, I want to do it but I'm still struggling with personal shit and this story.

Lastly I made a Dangerous Recipe poster with all my favorite quotes and I've added a link to that in my author's about me section for those of you who aren't on Tumblr following the blog for these Mac stories.

* * *

"You know I'll be proud of you either way right?" she asked, shuffling her feet back and fourth as she took a heady drag off her cigarette.

Mac nodded silently, oddly calm while she was a bundle of anxious, optimistic, energy. Krystal was a nervous mess, the night she'd been dreading had finally arrived. She didn't want to see the crushing look of disappointment on his face if he didn't pass. What it would do to his self confidence. How discouraged he would be to try again if he failed.

The fact that they'd missed class the night before last was weighing heavy on her conscience as well. But of course Mac had gotten his spoiled little way. Not that she'd been conscious to fight him on the subject anyway, the lack of sleep had finally caught up with her, making her sleep through the night with her Mac-blanket nestled atop her.

What she'd woken up to the next morning was downright bizarre. An empty bed and the smell of something burning.

"Ya aint sposta be up." he'd huffed when she entered the freezing kitchen to find smoke billowing out the open windows and a smashed smoke detector scattered in pieces around the floor.

"How can I not be, I thought the house was on fire." she shivered, wrapping her arms around her naked body as she stepped forward to inspect the disaster that covered her stove and counter.

"How 'm I sposta serve ya breakfast in bed if ya aint in bed. Git!" he snapped, shoving her away from the blackened contents of a frying pan that may have once been scrambled eggs.

Kristy went without hesitation, layering on several articles of clothing in hopes of stopping her teeth from chattering before she slipped back underneath the covers. She wasn't going to yell or nag despite the mess that would surely be waiting for her, cringing when she remembered the sight of a broken egg on the floor and butter smeared on a cabinet. It was the first time he'd gone out of his way to do something nice for her so she knew she would have to grin and bear it as far as the catastrophe he'd turned her kitchen into went.

She pictured his destruction of the beeping smoke unit with a laugh and a small smile. Imagining the panicked look on his face as the shrill noise threatened to wake her and the origin of the smoke burnt further while he smashed the poor detector to bits made her giggle further.

When he entered the bedroom he looked a mess, flour coloring his hair which prompted her to wonder what the hell he was trying to make that involved the white powdery substance. The tray he carried was piled high with black food, the orange juice sloshing over the rim of the glass at his quick nervous movements.

She knew the pain of countless parents who were forced to eat the concoctions of their well meaning children when she saw the look of utter disappointment on his face when he glanced down at the tray's contents.

"Come on hurry up, I didn't eat lunch or dinner yesterday and I'm starving." she insisted when he hesitated half way to the bed, surely wanting to just dump the failure of a breakfast into the trash and bury his head in the sand figuratively.

Kristy kept her composure as he reluctantly placed the tray in her lap and she got a good look at what she was about to force herself to ingest for Mac's sake. The bacon actually didn't look that bad, just extra extra extra crispy. The rest of it made her worry for her digestive system until she spotted a tiny wild flower next to the fork. From then on she didn't give a shit if consuming that much charred food made her sick. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever done.

"Ya don' gotta eat it." he murmured at what he saw as hesitation when she looked her breakfast over, casting his eyes downward in embarrassment.

'_At least I don't have to worry about salmonella poisoning.' _she thought as she shoveled a large amount of dark brown eggs into her mouth with a smile on her face that didn't waver.

Even when the unmistakable crunch of eggshells was felt as she chewed.

"It's good really good, I ah… I like my toast well done." she lied after she struggled to bite a piece of the rock hard bread off.

Mac gave her a flat look that plainly called bullshit on her white lie.

"Jus stop. Can't cook worth a damn, I know it's fuckin' nasty." he asserted, moving to take the half eaten charcoal away.

"I'll teach you one day." she offered, giving up the ruse and spitting a black mushy bready substance out.

She made sure to snatch the flower up before he removed the mess from her lap.

When he came back she had it against her nose, inhaling the faint sweet scent.

"Thank you for making me breakfast." she cooed, pulling him down into the black crumbs scattered about the bed spread.

"Ya mean tryina-" he began, getting cut off by her lips as she bent down and stopped his self-degrading words.

"Ugh!" he'd gagged, pulling away after sampling the horrible leftover taste on her tongue.

Mac stubbing his cigarette out on the side of the building got her out of her mind and back in the present situation.

"Alright let's do this." she cheered, trying to keep in high spirits as she flicked her butt off into the bushes. She could practically tasted the charred food as the memory left her and they entered the community center.

* * *

Krystal had taken to accompanying Mac to work every day since she'd quit her job at la Mesa. She was one of those people who couldn't stand just doing nothing all day, unless Mac was there doing nothing with her.

She really hadn't given Richie any choice in the matter of hiring her. In just her first day there she'd organized the office, balanced the books, ordered all the supplies they were soon to be out of, and did an oil change without batting an eyelash.

"She know anythin' else 'bout cars?" he asked Mac, trying not to get caught looking at Krystal's ass as she leaned over to pour fresh motor oil in.

"Aint no tellin', seems like she knows jus 'bout everythin'." he muttered, smacking his oily rag into Richie's face when he followed his line of sight.

It was there at the auto shop while playing secretary that she got the results for their final exams. After seeing her own unsurprising 4.0 she typed the password to Mac's email in slowly, almost dreading what she might see.

An ear piercing screech came from the front office, making Mac smack his head on the car hood as he jumped at the sound.

"Krys?….Krystal!" he bellowed, gripping the wrench he'd been using incase she was screaming due to an attacker.

He'd made it half way across the garage with Richie hot on his heels when she burst through the door with a huge smile on her face.

"You did it, you passed!" she yelled as she ran forward, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist and kiss him, not caring about the grease from his suit sullying her clothes.

Mac barely had a moment to process his accomplishment before she was unwrapping herself from around him, scurrying away with the mention of having something to do before she turned right around and came back again.

"I am so so proud of you Mac." she squealed, kissing him once more and making him beam with pride before she snatched the keys to the Denali and took off.

* * *

"Oh shit, she's back." Devon announced, spotting Krystal's suv pulling into the lot.

Walter looked up to see her speed walking towards the door, the unexpected happy expression on her face making him wonder what was up.

"Uh-uh get over here Walter, I need to talk to both of you." she called out when he tired slinking away to the safety of his lockable office door.

They gathered at the end of the bar, watching her expectantly side by side, wondering what the hell could have put her in such a good mood.

"Mac has been taking night classes and he finished high school." she began, seating herself at the bar before she got into what was sure to be the lesser of her two battles. "And the graduation ceremony is on Wednesday at the Freemont county community center."

"So?" Devon asked, puzzled as to why she was telling them this.

"So you're both going to be there to support him. Because you're his family." she scoffed, her tone becoming much darker at their indifference to Mac's success.

"An what makes you think we're going to show up?" Walter replied, raising a bushy gray brow at her.

"Because if you don't then you have to deal with me." she threatened with a low growl, remembering just how little they cared about the man that was the center of her world.

For some reason in the midst of her excitement she'd somehow forgotten about what kind of people they really were.

"Dress clothes. Six p.m. Don't be late and bring Regina too, you know how much she likes to clap at shit." she snapped, staring them down until they both nodded in understanding while mentally steeling herself for what she was about to ask next.

"Is…_she_ still in town?" Kristy inquired, half hoping the answer was no.

"Room four." Walter bit out, walking away to return to his work and leave her to her business.

* * *

"I can't fucking believe I'm doing this." she grumbled to herself as she crossed over into the dirt section that had not been paved towards the mostly out of order motel rooms.

Kristy stood in front of the door with a crooked number four nailed next to it, taking a long deep breath before she knocked with her un-injured hand. If she hadn't stuck her foot in the doorway it would have been slammed shut right in her face.

"I just want to talk." she assured the coward behind the door, thankful when the pressure let up on her throbbing foot.

The door opened wide after an uncertain minute, revealing the very fucked up face of Arlene.

'_It was already pretty messed up to begin with.' _Kristy thought to herself, hesitating for half a second at what she was about to do.

"Your son is graduating high school in two days and you should be there to see it." she blurted out, not sure how else to put it.

"High school? Shouldna his stupid ass done that years ago?" Arlene speculated, her words coming out a little off due to a missing tooth and a most likely dislocated jaw.

The ragged woman flinched when Krystal's useable hand clenched into a fist at the insult to Mac.

"Walter pulled him out of school in his early teens and he never got to finish until now. He worked hard for this and he deserves to have his family there when he walks across that stage." she proclaimed through gritted teeth, fighting to keep her temper in check.

"I don't give a shit, I'm not going." she declared around a hacking cough, attempting to push the door closed on her.

"I'll pay you." Kristy growled, slamming the door back open with one hand and forcing her way into the dingy room, eyeing the needle and spoon lying on a table.

"How much until you act like a proud loving mother?" she snapped when a fifty wasn't enough to even get her to attend.

"Proud and loving will cost you a grand. If you just want me there that'll be two hundred." Arlene delegated, holding out her hand for the cash.

"I'll give you two fifty if you show up on time, sober, looking presentable, and are nice to him." Kristy offered, absolutely hating herself for stooping to bribery.

"Three hundred." she countered as she sat down and proceeded to pull out a crack pipe.

Krystal lost her composure, grabbing the glass bowl and hurling it at the wall full force. The sound of it shattering proved extremely satisfying. Now that she had Arlene's full attention she was ready to continue.

"It's a deal. But if you fall through on any of those term I will bust my other hand on your face, you hear me?" she promised, handing over a fifty dollar bill.

"Do I look like a fucking idiot? You'll get the rest once you show up and play your part." Kristy frustratedly growled when the older woman still held out her hand expectantly.

"Great, now kindly get the fuck out." Arlene hissed, pocketing the money before she lit up a cigarette.

"I'm not done yet. I've got one more question and I'm only asking you because you're probably the only person who knows." she theorized, thinking how sad that was and fighting the urge to cut the bitch when she extended her hand for more money.

"What day was Mac born?" she strained, clenching her teeth once more as she slapped a twenty into her open palm.

"You're fucking scum." she bellowed when Arlene waved her hand forward for more money, doing so until she had three more twenties in her palm.

"It's coming up in a few weeks. December twelfth. Or eleventh. No the thirteenth." she finally remembered, stuffing the bills away in her bra.

After leaving directions to the community center Kristy couldn't get away fast enough, the overwhelming urge to slap the shit out of Mac's mother coursing through her in waves. She was in her own thoughts of what she was going to wear and what she was going to dress Mac in when a thud to her right made her jump.

"Jesus Regina." she muttered as she waved back to the girl in the window, thankful for the outside padlock Devon had installed so she didn't have to deal with a little shadow the rest of the day.


End file.
